The Final
by Kusumita
Summary: “You,” he whispered breathlessly, “Shall be mine. Tonight. Upon this chapel...and give birth to a son, a bastard of his realm and the next. You cannot turn your head away because he will be of your own and against your churchly ways.” [Dracula x D's Mom]


Finally. Something new in the Vampire Hunter D fandom. As you know, my computer died on me and so did the second chapter of _Inebretion of Sorrow._ D: So I'm only going to do little one shots until it is fixed.

** I'm warning you. This is a little more darker than my usual. So you are warned.  
**

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**Title:** The Final

**Rating**: T passing slightly into M

**Pairing:** Hate shipping

**Warning**: Lots and Lots of Lust, Forceful Joining, Hate shipping (All in a single one shot 0.o )

**Summary: **D's conception.

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Almost as crispy as the wind, the count's footsteps echoed and ricocheted off the stone walls. Its size competing with that of an upscale Italian Palazzo; a breeze whispered through the open halls with vast windows made from fine craftsmanship and moldings which caused the sleek and long garments the figure donned to quiver behind him in almost an enigmatic and poignant feel of the foyer.

The man was, by no mortal means, handsome. A strange face which was enchanting yet outlandish in such a sense it would captive one with merely a look and hold your entire movement with a mere smile. Such a smile would emit primal urges with even church workers and overwhelm the building feeling of eternal sin dangling over their heads with a dastardly grin and provocative feel upon the now blinded senses. Such a man was absolutely delicious to the point of being devoured by lust filled nymphs and mortal women driven mad merely by the feeling of his presence.

Except her.

That one female drove him mad and enflamed him with a sense of the unknown feeling of denied lust. She would stare at him during those starry nights, testing with her patience of his will and allocation of his attention, and not smile towards his beauty. His gorgeous vanity had risen to unpredictable heights and that single girl swept it away with merely a turn of her bored expression. She had pledged herself to god, and smiled only with her back turned to the window, her head slightly turned to he may only glance at her victorious smile upon the chapel floor.

Frustration. Sexual Oppression. Blood Filled Nights.

No matter how much he fed and became intoxicated and blurred by nights and nights enraptured by the blood of virgins and married women alike. The vampire found himself loosing interest in such winning battles. His lips parted in an every succulent position as he breathed heavily upon the small girl's neck. Her robes obviously proved to have been stolen away in the middle of her own wedding night.

Her head arched back with her neck exposed and feasted upon with trails of thin lines of red and small holes remaining almost inconspicuous. He drunk and drunk, drinking until even he felt sick and nauseated by even the smell of it and the girl merely lay within his arms unmoving with her eyes glazed blankly towards another world. He, once more, became bored with the child and positioned her aright and stepped away. His dark hair began to suckle upon his skin stained with the crimson liquid as it hung around closely with a dark mane over the amber, chocolate colored eyes which pulsed upon the moving of the blood within the girl's veins.

"I grow bored of you," his dark, accented voice commanded, "Dispose of yourself."

The girl's eyes widened in fear and her arms shivered as they proceeded to her neck in a shaky manner. Tears managed to whistle down her cheeks and mix with the dark hair now fluttering across her face. Her lips moved before a revolting crack echoed through the walls.

"Yes, Count Dracula."

With that, the girl swung her neck with her hand and she died.

The lord felt no pity coursing through his stone cold blood. He felt no remorse. No agony and not pain of her loss. Though he felt the, undying and never faded, feeling of unsatisfied lust reigning supreme over his emotions and with that he felt like, what all the mortals thought of him; a monster.

--

"I am married to God, vile thing! You are bastardizing the church!"

"God may strike me dead, but he will turn his back upon you much like he has done to me!"

The woman was strong. Much like an alley cat brought out of the street only to be dragged back within its depths and tearing away of one's security. Spiritually, the words the count spouted, raped her beliefs right before her eyes in almost a scrutiny which he would hold no limit to what he would say. Her nails dug into the dead like skin the vampire wore as no blood would flow from the undead creature with his haunting beauty and undying rage towards the woman who denied him his desires.

Spoilt you would say? Extremely.

"Release me now! Our father would spit upon your soul and cast you far past the ninth level of hell!"

"**_Our_**father?" The vampire spouted a shockingly loud, dry stream of laughing. His lips parched and cracked as the laughter faded and his gripped tightened. His eyes burned within the girl's matching brown as if attempting to command her.

"You," he whispered breathlessly, "Shall be mine. Tonight. Upon this chapel."

The girl felt her heart drop and her eyes widened at the thought.

"-and give birth to a son, a bastard of his realm and the next. You cannot turn your head away because he will be of your own and against your churchly ways."

The girl's mind faded. Her eyes melted into a similar glazed look with long streams of frustrated tears cascading messily down her pale face. The moonlight reflecting off of the painted gothic picture of a forsaken church under the arms of the bastard son of the devil; a dark image locked within time and history .The girl wouldn't cry out, her mind refused to give in to the ecstasy that followed. Fighting until she allowed her eyes to droop and fall into a slumber long lost within the moments of time. Locked within an endless spell which overpowered the emotion she felt before this event.

Before such a barbaric engulfment of lust and unrequited desire… The girl would look outside the window and smile towards the figure in a smile which had been miscommunication to begin with. For the girl, before, had loved the beast within the forest; now hate ruled the favor of the child's mind; her emotions were hay-wired and her mind cluttered with memories long before. For now, all she knew was that she was to expect a child born of lust, hate and misplaced love twisted into a bastard.

Yes. He would be an incomplete bastard with an uncompleted name. At least, with that… she would win against the unearthly creature in her own passive resistance.

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WTF was I on when I wrote this? I don't know but I loved the way it was written too much to shun it. D: Oh well. 


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